


you matched your step with mine

by kamsangi



Series: if i woke up next to you [2]
Category: SECHSKIES (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Internal Monologue, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M, Nostalgia, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamsangi/pseuds/kamsangi
Summary: What's on your mind, Eun Jiwon?Maybe it's love.





	you matched your step with mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [johannes_cabal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/johannes_cabal/gifts).



> To one of my favourite people in the world, a belated birthday present for you! Happy birthday Anne, and I hope you like this. <3 
> 
> We talked about G-Duck canon relationship development so many times that I figured it would be a solid pick for a gift fic, hehehe.
> 
> May deal with a couple of mature themes here and there (multiple vague mentions of Sunghoon's case, implied mention of death of a family member, one section with non-graphic descriptions of sexual content). Regular disclaimer that it's just fanfiction and no harm is meant in the slightest. 
> 
> Can be read as set in the same universe as this [fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16602218).
> 
> Enjoy!

 

An abstract painting of a valley. The deep, thick strokes of grass-green, sea-blue, clay-brown. Blots of white ballooning overhead, obstructing the summit of an ethereal mountain, towering across the fields. The brush-strokes continue upward, lighter and lighter, until they disappear into grey. A child might have painted this. A man who’s studied art his entire life might have painted this. The ambiguity is stunning.

How high does the mountain go? Unseen, unknown. It rises out of frame, until one can only imagine the view from its top-most point. You might see the entire world. You might see only the cloudy peak itself, fog crawling around your feet like it’s reaching for them.

His fingers unfurl from where they’d been gripping the base of a ballpoint pen. “Nice painting, that one, isn’t it?” he says, to no one in particular. He might get one just like it. It reminds him of the way his head feels, sometimes. Stuffy and distant. Sometimes he doesn’t really know what’s up there.

“I guess.”

He’s come to this studio enough that it feels like a second home. Even in a place like YG Entertainment, it’s really like any other recording joint. There’s nothing particularly special about it. Pale wooden panelling all across the room, a couple of comfortable couches, some potted plants. A table in the middle, good equipment, and a decently-sized recording room.

It still feels like familiarity to him. One of the only places he can go where he feels completely secure about what he’s doing. Where he can dictate what he wants. Where he’s in control, despite the fact that he’s not the only one working on these songs. They still feel like they’re his.

Their producer cracks his neck, and says, “Gonna head out for a coffee.”

Jiwon just nods, clicking play on the track. It’s a chiller beat than they’re used to, something a little more mellow, something that suits them a little more now that they’re down a vocalist with a brighter tone.

It’ll be odd to put out an album without Sunghoon. It feels odd even now, recording a verse without his cheer, a chorus without his voice, a bridge without his runs.

He tries not to dwell on that thought too much. What’s been done is done. He’ll just hope that things work out for the better. Jiwon replays the track again, the unwritten words still a jumble in his head. And then, again, and again, and again, until time’s passed in a hazy blur.

Eventually, the time on his phone lets him know that he’s been here almost three hours, now. It’s almost 10pm. Still not too late, not too late. He’s stayed out much longer working on songs for his own albums before. Taking naps on the couch in between penning down lyrics, re-recording lines until his throat felt hoarse.

Then again, he can’t do that anymore, can he. His back and knees protest louder than ever these days, the ache ever present in his joints. He feels tired far too quickly and for far too long. It’s all a weighty reminder that he’s not young anymore.

A hand cups the nape of his neck and squeezes gently. “Hey,” Jaeduck says, standing over his shoulder. He’s got his hoodie up over his head, smiling despite the fatigue in his shadowed eyes. “I’ll drive you home.”

“I’m not leaving yet,” Jiwon says, tilting his head back to look up at him.

“You are,” Jaeduck says, and his hand moves to Jiwon’s shoulder, squeezing lightly again. “I told Pilkang already. You’re done with your parts, anyway.”

“Sure,” Jiwon mutters, but he stretches and grabs his coat. “You told him, huh? Not asked?” Their producer is more than aware of Jiwon’s workaholic tendencies. He’s probably started conspiring with the others to make sure he leaves the building by a reasonable time.

“If I just asked,” Jaeduck says, “you’d be leaving at 1.”

“You’ve learnt.” Jiwon follows Jaeduck out of the studio after they’ve said their farewells, feet feeling a little heavier now that he’s finally stood up to move. “I thought you’d gone already. Didn’t see you after you left the studio around eight.”

“Was in the practice room.” Ah. That’s why he looks tired. If Jiwon’s bad, then Jaeduck’s equally so—he’ll stay back to practice at odd hours of the night, running through the same choreography over and over again. “There was a move I couldn’t get,” Jaeduck says, fiddling a little with his sleeve. “You know my memory’s not as good as before.”

Jiwon knows. Jaeduck’s perfectionism’s been around since the nineties, when him and Jaejin would stay behind in the company’s cramped dance studio to make up choreo and practice. They’d end up sleeping on landing mats in the studio itself, and in the van on the way to schedules. Now, they don’t have to practice as hard, but Jaeduck—he’s feeling the strain of the years passed, too.

“It’s fine.” Jiwon bumps his shoulder casually and says, “Thanks for the ride.”

“It’s cool,” Jaeduck says, smiling again. Just the corners of his mouth rising, but it makes him feel a little less tired, as it always does. Especially these days.

Even though he hasn’t quite had a reason to smile properly in a while, he’s glad for Jaeduck. Somehow, they’ve met up a fair bit more often in the past year—schedules, trips, even just to hang out—and Jiwon’s reminded of the way they’d been close before the group’s disbandment.

It’s nice, he thinks. It’s like back when they were young again.

Except—

Jaeduck drops his bag in the back of the car, and motions for Jiwon to adjust his seat before he starts the car. “You know how Suwon likes to lean back all the way,” he says fondly, as he reverses out of the lot, “still such a kid.”

“A kid, huh?” Jiwon says. “He’s just a year younger than you.”

“He’s not quite your age yet,” Jaeduck comments, his smile growing cheekier than before. “How are the forties treating you?”

“Punk,” Jiwon says, no heat behind the word. “Wait till you get there.”

“Won’t be long.” Jaeduck rests a hand on the shifter, casual in the way he takes the car across the brightly-lit streets of the city. “Does that mean I don’t have to call you hyung next year?”

“Dream on.” Jiwon snorts and crosses his arms over his chest.

Jaeduck laughs, eyes still on the road. “Sure thing, Jiwon-hyung.” There are more lines at the corners of his eyes now, his voice lower than when he was a teenager. He’s thirty-nine now, Jiwon thinks. Thirty-nine going on forty to match Jiwon’s forty-one.

It’s not _quite_ like back when they were young.

“Do you miss it?” Jiwon asks suddenly. “Back then. When we were just starting out.”

Jaeduck doesn’t reply right away, taking a left-turn through an interchange carefully before he chances a quick glance over at Jiwon. “Of course I do,” he says. A droplet of water hits the windshield, and then another, and another. Jaeduck flicks on the wipers. One swipe, two, three. “I miss being able to dance without needing to take a break every five minutes.”

“Not just that,” Jiwon says. “When we were all together.”

“I do.” Jaeduck’s tone hasn’t changed, but he smiles like he’s thinking about it. Remembering too. “We played a lot back then, huh? The two of us, especially.”

“Yeah, we did.”

Messing around backstage, making a ton of noise. Playing endless rounds of cards. Screaming whenever either of them lost. Laughing like maniacs at silly dares, and stupid pranks. Acting like the children they were.

“It was fun,” Jaeduck says, one arm leaning on the divider between them. “But I like how we are now.”

Now that they’ve grown into their years. Now that they’ve been through so much more. Now that they’ve both become different people—or, at least, Jaeduck has. Quieter, more thoughtful. There’s a sense of maturity that’s settled in him that’s built up over the years, bit by bit. It’s telling, now, not just in the way Jaeduck carries himself—but in the way he carries his relationships with people.

“I like you the way you are now,” Jaeduck adds, tapping his fingers along the wheel.

His words wash over Jiwon like the drizzle that’s begun to fall. But, Jaeduck doesn’t know, Jiwon thinks, doesn’t know the way Jiwon’s become weary. The way Jiwon’s still trying to fix—something. Whatever it is that’s got him stalling.

It’s strange. He’s a year older than Jaeduck, yet his own relationships are constantly on the edge, brimming with tension tauter than a stretched wire. What Jaeduck has... it’s not something he’s found himself.

And this Jaeduck, sitting next to him—

Jiwon thinks he might like this Jaeduck more, too.

“You’re thinking pretty loudly,” Jaeduck voices, glancing over quickly. “What’s on your mind?”

A mountain in a valley, shadowed by fog. The cloud of his own dread, surrounding memories he can’t forget.

“Nothing,” Jiwon answers, looking out the window. It’s raining. “Nothing at all.”

 

 

He wishes it’d been amicable. Hell, he’d have taken it even if it’d been punctuated by rage and tears instead. It still would’ve been better than the absolute void they’d settled into, the two of them, as they slowly drifted apart over the days, weeks, months, years.

Coming home on late nights to her already in bed, back turned to the door. Dinner already eaten, his portion in the microwave. Her things always neatly tucked away, separate from his, as if she were a guest.

He doesn’t remember who brought it up first.

He just remembers the way she’d clasped his hand between hers, and said, “I can’t.”

Jiwon wonders what happened to the woman he’d married. The girl he thought he’d be with forever. The memory of warm sand between their toes, their laughter against the backdrop of waves crashing against the shore, the golden sun illuminating her face.

Then again, she probably wondered the same thing. Did he end up becoming a stranger to her too? He must have. Otherwise she wouldn’t have left. Otherwise he would have asked her to stay.

He wishes he had. Then again—if he had, would things have changed?

He doesn’t know.

Wishes upon wishes, like tossing coins into fountains. Jiwon cradles them all within his palms and spreads them across the sea. They sink down to the bottom, forgotten and rusting.

The same month she’d left, he’d summarily returned to the life he’d lived before her, boozing and gaming and making a name for himself onstage, onscreen. It hadn’t felt painful.

It’d just felt—empty.

Jiwon wonders if he should’ve felt otherwise.

Maybe there’s something wrong with him. Maybe that’s why all the relationships he’s attempted to get into since her have failed. It’s been years, but he’s still not past first dates and one night stands. He hasn’t felt anything more than the surface desire of needing to reach out and touch another person, skin to skin.

The studio’s cold tonight. Jiwon snaps out of his reverie when a freezing blast of air hits him from the air-conditioning unit just above him. The piece of paper under his hand gets jostled, and he pulls it back towards himself. They’re lyrics to fit a beat. Lyrics for the fans they’re glad to meet.

“Enough love songs,” he’d said, just hours ago. “We’ve done so many. We’ve already got three lined up. Let’s do more songs for the fans.”

“Can’t the love songs be for them?” Suwon had joked from where he’d been slouched on the sofa behind him. “Aren’t all our fan songs just love songs in the end?”

Maybe they are. Maybe they’re not. Maybe Jiwon just doesn’t understand what love means, anymore.

“It’s different,” Jiwon had insisted. “Those—they’re different to me.”

They don’t make him feel absolutely nothing.

Suwon had just given him a strange look, and said, “Okay,” before standing to warm up to record.

Now, Jiwon looks at the words again, and wonders if he’ll ever remember what it was like before.

_What’s on your mind?_

“Nothing,” he whispers to himself, “nothing at all.”

 

 

He’s nervous, going over his new lines in his head during lunch, and a last time before they’re to head out behind the stage. Jiwon’s not usually like this, but there’s a tickle in the back of his mouth that’s threatening to turn into a full-blown sore throat if he’s not careful enough, and it’s the first time they’re doing this.

A full concert without their main vocalist. Sure, they’ve separated all their lines, and they’ve run through all their choreography enough, but—still.

He flexes his fingers around the empty water bottle he’s been holding onto for the past ten minutes, still hunched over on the couch. _You fucking idiot,_ Jiwon thinks, _if only you didn’t get into this mess._

If only, if only. Too-strong words for a situation that’s more complicated than he can wrap his head around.

If he could just do _more_ to help him fix it.

The sofa dips with the weight of another person. “Here,” Jaeduck says, tugging the empty bottle out of Jiwon’s hands and replacing it with another. “You need to take care of your voice.”

“I know,” Jiwon says.

Jaeduck smiles, and sets his hand on Jiwon’s knee. “We’ve got your back, you know. We’ll support you the way you’ve already made your mind up to support us.”

Jiwon glances up at him. “We’re all in this together.”

“You’re our leader,” Jaeduck says, so matter-of-fact that something unwinds in Jiwon, some tension in the uncertainty of how he’s been doing lately. “And I know you.”

“You do, huh?”

“I do,” Jaeduck says, not a single note of doubt in his words, “and I know that you’re going to do the best you can. Worry about us, but not too much, okay?” He squeezes Jiwon’s knee lightly. “Let us look out for you, too.”

“Okay,” Jiwon says, and Jaeduck stands, thumping Jiwon on the shoulder gently. “Thanks, Jaeduck.”

“Always.”

As he watches Jaeduck go, slipping out of the room to go into the next, where he’s probably going to practice the choreography again, he realises that the nervousness he’d been harbouring for the past couple of hours has ebbed somewhat.

Jiwon unscrews the cap from the bottle of water Jaeduck had brought him. Jaeduck knows the right thing to say. Every single time. As much as they’ll occasionally rib him for being naive and a bit too overeager, there’s something in the words that come out of his mouth whenever he gets serious.

Like just then, as simply as they’d been said. There’d been something about the way Jaeduck had spoken to him.

Then again, there’s always just something about _Jaeduck._ And, for a while now, he hasn’t been able to pin down exactly what it is.

Jiwon sucks in a deep breath. Exhales, and takes a big swig of water. Inhales and exhales again, before gathering up his confidence.

Time to go out there and do what they were always meant to do.

And they do.

Throughout the concert, he’s reinvigorated by the strength of the fans’ cheers. He fumbles here and there, and so do the others, but it’s no matter. They’re still trying their best. They’ve still having fun. They’re dancing, they’re singing, they’re playing around with each other on the stunningly-built stage. They’re still them, under the weight of expectations and responsibilities and things that are far, far out of their control.

Jaeduck’s especially playful over the two nights they perform. Slipping into their usual, almost-flirtatious stage games, it’s easy to forget everything else while they’re breaking choreography, putting party hats on for each other, or just poking fun at each other. Jaeduck makes him laugh a lot, those nights.

He’s thankful.

After, when all of it’s said and done, Jiwon’s glad for all of them. The fans, the staff who worked hard, everyone who came out for them. The other members, especially. Suwon who’d sang like a champ, stepping out of his comfort zone. Jaejin who’d danced twice as hard, going above and beyond for the fans.

And Jaeduck, who catches him in the corridor as they’re making to leave the concert venue, who puts a hand on Jiwon’s arm to get his attention. “Goodnight, Jiwon-hyung,” he says, eyes soft, smile hidden by his mask.

“Goodnight,” Jiwon says, feeling genuinely glad to have Jaeduck be the last person he speaks to that night. “I’ll see you soon?”

“’Course,” Jaeduck replies, giving him a jaunty little wave as he walks towards his car.

Jiwon goes home still feeling the warmth of Jaeduck’s hand lingering on his skin, even though he’d only touched him through his jacket. Again, that thing about Jaeduck makes itself known, nixing his other thoughts that night for bright laughter and familiar cheer.

He can’t stop thinking about him the rest of the night. It’s almost like there’s something else keeping Jaeduck a constant in the forefront of his mind, his face and his words and the memory of his touch.

_What’s on your mind?_

Jaeduck’s hand, touching his arm. Jiwon’s hand, touching his shoulder. Their palms together, not wanting to let go. The two of them.

The two of them together.

Together.

Oh. He thinks he knows what it is.

 

 

The days pass. Winter continues to drape itself over the city.

They’ve never been the kind to hang out much, but Jiwon’s never been fond of being alone. Especially not with long, dreary days like these. He ends up texting the others far too often to meet up for dinner and drinks, but Jaejin’s in the midst of permanently moving to Jeju, and Suwon’s ever the social butterfly, too much on his plate to make it for more than a couple of nights.

Jaeduck keeps his promise from the night of the concert. “I’ve got too much free time,” he tells Jiwon, smiling as he pokes at a piece of sizzling meat with his chopsticks. “Besides, I like spending time with you.”

He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that Jaeduck saying those words makes him feel infinitely more pleased than if anyone else had said them to him.

They fall into a pattern, meeting up once a week. It’s enough to temper the loneliness Jiwon feels. They’ve always been on the same wavelength in terms of humour, and Jaeduck’s never-ending stories are like a good cup of coffee. He wants to drink it in and never have it end.

They’re getting close again, like back when they were kids, and it’s good. It’s really good, except for the fact that for Jiwon, it’s more than the friendship he’d felt back then.

Just a little more than that.

The more they meet, the more it grows, the attraction. It’s not that it’s a completely new thing for him. He’s been attracted to men before, once or twice, but those were only ever fleeting emotions. With Jaeduck... the feeling has just been growing ever since the night of the concert.

This is different. This is new.

They end up filming their end of year’s greetings in a small AirBnB that the staff’s rented out for a couple of days. It’s not far out from Jiwon’s place, but it’s remote enough that it feels like he’s going on holiday, even though they’re still in Seoul.

Jiwon shuts the door of the van behind him, and slings his travel bag over his shoulder. He hadn’t been the one to suggest staying overnight (Suwon had, and it’d initially been a joke) but he’d been the one to go with it. Everyone else had just followed. Besides. It’ll be fun rooming together again. They haven’t done that in a while.

Somewhere within the house, there’s the clicking of cameras, and a loud shriek, followed by a peal of laughter. “Well,” Jiwon says to himself, knocking on the door, “Jaejin’s definitely here.”

He slips through the house to find staff setting up in just about every available space, greeting them as he goes, and one that’s been turned into a dressing room. Jaejin’s perched on the arm of the single sofa that’s pushed up against the wall, throwing tissue paper balls at Jaeduck, who’s busy throwing them back at Suwon, who’s batting them away with expert level reflexes as one of the stylists works on his hair.

Jiwon’s not going to even try figuring out what the hell they’re doing. Idiots. “Hey,” he says, setting his bag down by the entryway. “We startin’ already?”

“Soon.” He gets a disposable camera handed to him by one of the staff members. It’s small and compact in his palm. “You can take a few photos of the other members during shoots, to make them feel a bit more casual.”

“Sure,” Jiwon says, and lifts the camera to his eye. “Smile,” he says, and no one looks up. “I said _smile,_ assholes.”

Jaeduck chucks a tissue ball in his direction, while Jaejin does a peace sign and attempts to lift one foot up at the same time, almost falling off the couch. “I can’t move,” Suwon just says as the stylist sprays an entire cloud of hairspray in his direction.

 _Snap._ “Perfect,” Jiwon says, tucking the camera into his pocket. “I hope that one goes in.”

(It doesn’t. It turns out completely blurry and unusable. The tissue ball flying across the room is mostly to blame. Jiwon still asks for a copy of it anyway. He thinks he should probably start keeping every small memory he makes just as carefully as the big ones. They’re worth just as much.)

The night’s filming goes well. They decorate cakes, they decorate a tree, they decorate some paper. A lot of decorating, Jiwon thinks dryly. Maybe a bit too much. He doesn’t want to see another Christmas ornament till next year’s season’s greetings filming.

They help the staff clear down, and take turns washing up before ordering in a late supper. There’s nothing better than the heat of a spicy tteokbokki lathered in melted cheese for when the weather’s dipping, and you’re with friends.

Well. Jiwon stabs at a rice cake and tries to not think about the fact that they’re here with a person missing, still.

What kind of leader is he, he thinks cynically, if he can’t keep the group together. Can’t even take care of the ones under his charge. He’d just let them go for years, and now, there’s just so much in their way. So many things smacking them aside the face with zero remorse.

He needs to try harder. To work harder, for them. He has to, he needs to—

“Ah, Jiwon-hyung.” Jaeduck settles into the vacant seat beside him, his own bowl in his hands. “You haven’t eaten much.”

Jiwon immediately lifts a rice cake up by the chopsticks and shoves it into his mouth, still steaming from the sauce. “Y’s, ‘uh h’b,” he mumbles, completely unintelligible. “Oh f’ck, too h’h.”

Jaeduck snorts, and waits for Jiwon to catch his breath and swallow his food, before tapping his chopsticks against Jiwon’s bowl. “More,” he insists. “It’s not good for you to eat so little.”

“You my minder, now?”

“If I have to be.” Jaeduck blows on a bit of fishcake, nibbling cutely at it before stuffing the entire thing into his mouth. Jiwon smiles despite himself. “No one else is gonna tell you to.”

“Thanks, then.” They eat in silence, and Jiwon tries to ignore the tiny wisps of emotion that have decided to make themselves present, with Jaeduck sitting so close beside him that their arms are almost touching.

But, now that they’re here again, they seem intent on staying.

As midnight fast approaches and their staff leave them on their own, the four of them end up sprawled across the living room that’s been returned to its original setting. The Christmas tree remains stood up in the corner, its lights glimmering in the dim light.

“We should really do the dorm thing,” Suwon comments from the armchair across where Jiwon’s sitting on the couch. “It’d be fun, wouldn’t it? Since we don’t know what it’ll be like.”

“It’ll be hell,” Jiwon mutters. The four of them in one room? For, what, _a month?_

He thinks he might just launch himself out of the window on the third day.

“We don’t have to do it for that long,” Jaejin says, curling his arms around the three beanbags he’s commandeered. “Just a couple of weeks?”

Jaeduck laughs, leaning back a little against Jiwon’s shoulder. “I think it’d be fun too,” he says. “The smell, on the other hand...”

“Well, we could just have one of my cats and no dogs,” Jaejin says, and that sparks an entire argument that Jiwon very passionately defends his side for. There’s no way he’s not bringing Lucy with him if he’s going to live somewhere else for more than a week.

The entire time, Jaeduck remains by his side. He throws in his own perspective a couple of times, but Jiwon can’t remember what he says, not when Jaeduck keeps slumping closer and closer, until he’s practically snuggled up to Jiwon.

As Suwon changes the conversation to Jaejin’s move, Jiwon turns slightly to murmur, “You comfortable, there?”

“Mm,” Jaeduck hums. He sounds a bit tired. “You’re warm.”

The words make Jiwon’s chest tighten. “Yeah?” He slings his arm around Jaeduck’s shoulders, letting Jaeduck rest his head on Jiwon’s shoulder. Jaeduck’s warm, too. “This good?”

“Yeah,” Jaeduck says, voice soft. Jiwon can’t see his face properly from this angle, but he can feel Jaeduck’s hair tickle his jaw. Jiwon lets his hand hang loosely against Jaeduck’s arm, his thumb just stroking along the edge of his sleeve idly.

The time passes quickly like this. Jaejin’s the first to go, saying that he needs to get up early to work out. Suwon follows soon after, but pauses to ask if Jiwon’s not going to sleep yet.

“Soon.” He doesn’t have the heart to move, not when Jaeduck looks this comfortable.

Suwon just nods, eyes flicking towards where Jaeduck’s curled up against him, before sending Jiwon a wave as he leaves.

The moment Suwon’s footsteps fade away, Jaeduck lifts his head and says, “Now you can tell me what you’ve been thinking about since dinner.”

Little sneak. “You’ve been pretending the entire time?”

“Well, no,” Jaeduck admits, rubbing at his eyes. “I actually am a bit sleepy. I just didn’t know how else to get you alone without making it obvious.”

Jiwon laughs. “And falling asleep on my shoulder in front of everyone wasn’t obvious?”

Jaeduck just smiles. “You know I’m no good at coming up with ideas.” He straightens up a little, stretching. Jiwon’s arm moves to rest on the top of the couch. “And you’d have just brushed me off if I asked to talk to you alone.”

“About what?” Jiwon glances away. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You don’t have to—I know you have this thing about not talking to people.” Jaeduck’s smile has fallen. “With everything going on... and you hadn’t wanted to say anything the last few times we met in public...”

He remembers. It’d been weeks since his—since the funeral, but still—

It’d been too raw, still. He’d just needed someone to drink with. Someone who wouldn’t ask too much, who’d know how to deal with someone like him. Jaeduck had let him drink till he couldn’t stand, and then driven him back home. “Seungho-hyung used to do this,” he’d said as he drove, not realising Jiwon hadn’t been asleep yet, “used to want to drink himself to death because of things he couldn’t control.” He’d let out a soft exhale, sounding exhausted. “Please don’t do the same.”

Jiwon hadn’t touched a glass for a week after, Jaeduck’s words echoing in his head every time he looked at the bottles in his cabinet.

“I mean,” Jiwon starts, quiet, “I’ll deal with it. You know I will. I always do.”

“Saying that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.” Jaeduck’s concern is apparent in every word. “You’ve been looking tired. You haven’t slept much, you’re always working, and you don’t eat enough. And I’m worried.”

He genuinely is, Jiwon can tell. It’s the same tone of voice he’d spoken in when Sunghoon had first told them about the mess he’d gotten into. Gentle, but chiding.

“It’ll be fine,” Jiwon says. He doesn’t even believe that himself. “I just… you know I can power through it.”

Jaeduck doesn’t look convinced. “Just,” he whispers, “don’t shut yourself off from us, okay? Or me.” He rests a hand over Jiwon’s, rubbing his thumb over the back of Jiwon’s knuckles. “Please.”

But, Jiwon thinks, how can he trouble the others with his problems? Trouble Jaeduck with whatever he’s going through, when he’s sure Jaeduck’s got his own problems? It wouldn’t be fair.

“It’s not fair to yourself if you don’t talk to someone, either.” Jaeduck squeezes his hand. “You know I’m always here for you, right?”

“I know,” Jiwon says. “I know you care, Jaeduck.”

Jaeduck gives him a little smile. “I care a lot more than you know.”

For some reason, the words make his stomach flip. “Oh?”

Jaeduck doesn’t answer, instead saying, “You’ve always looked out for me. Let me look out for you too.” It’s an echo of the words he’d said the night of the concert, except they feel more personal, this time.

 _You, me._ Not _we,_ or _us._ Just Jaeduck, just Jiwon.

“Sure, Jaeduck.” Jiwon offers him a smile in return. “I’ll try, okay? I promise.”

“I’ll keep you to it.” Jaeduck slips off the sofa, letting go of Jiwon’s hand. Jiwon immediately feels a little bereft of touch, curling his hand back towards himself. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

He’s not sure if it’s just the shadows playing with his head, or the way he’s feeling tired from the long day, but the way Jaeduck looks at him just before he leaves, and the words he’d said—

Jiwon wonders—what if—

_What if._

 

 

They meet up for drinks yet again. It’s not long till their next trip for work, coming up in just less than a month, but Jaeduck had called and asked if they were still meeting up, and that had been that.

“Cheers.” Their shot-glasses clink together. The liquor always burns on the way down, but he welcomes the warmth that settles in his gut, and the hunger that burns when he smells the quickly cooking meat and onions on the grill in front of them.

Jaeduck pops a bit of tofu into his mouth, and asks, still chewing, “Did you remember to eat breakfast today?”

“I did. Right after you texted.”

After the last filming, Jaeduck’s been texting him to make sure he’s been doing okay. To ask whether he’s been sleeping at a decent time. Whether he’s eating at least two meals a day. What he’s been up to, when his next schedule is.

It would feel intrusive if it were anyone else. With Jaeduck, he knows the nagging comes out of a place of kindness. He knows Jaeduck worries, that he cares. And, he’s not gonna lie. He’s grateful for it. It’s helped. He’s been eating, he’s been sleeping a bit more. He feels... better.

Jaeduck smiles. “Good,” he says, and a stirring of pride rises in Jiwon’s chest at making Jaeduck pleased.

They eat, they talk about mundane things, and they drink.

It’s the same as any other time they’ve had dinner together, right up until it’s not.

“How’s Tony?” Jiwon asks, pouring himself another glass of soju. “He still busy?”

“More than usual.” Jaeduck seems a little downcast by the thought. “Don’t see him much, and I don’t think I will, for a while—he’s got a lot of work coming up...”

“Already missing your man, huh?” Jiwon says lightly.

Jaeduck laughs. “My man,” he repeats, “my man has got himself a date lined up next week, so he’s not quite _my_ man.” He suddenly inhales sharply, and sets his chopsticks down. “I actually. I’d thought for the longest time that maybe he was into guys, too. Since he stopped dating for a while.”

“What?” Jiwon’s surprised by the turn they’ve taken. “But, why—”

“It was more of a hope than a thought, actually,” Jaeduck says quietly.

The words slap Jiwon right in the face. “You...” he starts, unable to say anything else.

“But I knew it was never going to be a thing,” Jaeduck says, the words tumbling out of his mouth. “I knew he’s always liked girls. He’s my best friend, he’ll always be. I just—sometimes, I wondered—if he ever thought about me that way. Because I had. About him. Once, once or twice. Never seriously. I could never, not about him.”

“Jaeduck,” Jiwon says softly.

“I came to terms with it years ago. After I got out of service.” Jaeduck’s hand is tight around his glass. He takes a sip, before continuing, “I like men. Always have.”

_It was more of a hope than a thought. It was more of a hope than a thought._

_Jaeduck’s eyes, lingering on him as he stood._

_What if, what if._

Jiwon says, “I’ve only just come to terms with it. Being—being into men, too. Not just women.”

A glass is set onto the table. A surprised cough, and Jaeduck’s staring at him, eyes wide. “How’d…” Jaeduck says, the words slow to come. “How’d you realise? When?”

“Always. But it’d never been anything, uh, life-changing,” Jiwon says. “It was only ever just surface level.” He’s hesitant to admit it was Jaeduck who’s spurred on his most recent realisation. “Then, this year, I… started to find someone attractive. It got me thinking.” Thinking a lot. Thinking too much. “Now, it’s… a bit more than that.”

A bit loose-lipped from the alcohol, Jaeduck says, “You know, for a while, I thought... the way you looked at me, sometimes...” He lets out a quiet laugh, like he can’t believe he’s saying this. “I thought it was me.” Like he expects Jiwon to say, haha, that’s hilarious. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.

It’s not.

Sinking ships across the horizon, inside his chest. Bobbing back up to the surface, high up in his throat.

Jaeduck looks at him, eyes wide in his pale face. “Jiwon-hyung,” he says, voice tight. “Say something. Please.”

He shouldn’t. _He should._ He’s afraid. _What for?_

It’s Jaeduck. _It’s Jaeduck._

He sucks in a breath.

It’s Jaeduck.

“Yeah,” Jiwon admits. “It’s you.” He studies Jaeduck’s face for a moment. Studies his eyes, his long lashes, his pretty mouth. The curve of his chin, the way he tips it down as he stares into his glass. It makes Jiwon want to skim his fingers along his jaw, to gently press a thumb into his cheek, to feel how soft he is. Kim Jaeduck, who’s finally gotten under his skin after all these years. “I find you attractive.”

“Are you into me?” Jaeduck asks, voice soft.

“Yes,” Jiwon says, “yes, I’m into you.”

Jaeduck doesn’t look away. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Because I think I’m into you too.”

Around them, nothing changes. The clink of glasses, bottles, plates. Loud chatter from every table. No one pays them any notice, because who are they to anyone else? Just a couple of friends having drinks.

Friends. Jiwon might have to reconsider the notion now that he’s heard Jaeduck’s admission. Now that he’s made his own. Now that there’s a warmth pooling in his gut like he’s just taken a particularly heady shot. It feels like the stirrings of giddiness, the way a kid would feel after their crush has just returned their confession, but he’s not a teenager anymore. He’s well aware of that. It might be unfair to call this a crush. It might be unfair to call this anything at all. What would anyone call attraction when it comes only after years of being acquainted with another person? What would he call this after knowing Jaeduck for just about half his life?

Somehow, Jaeduck’s making him feel something he hasn’t felt in a while, and it scares him.

They drink in silence for a little longer, not meeting each other’s eyes. The conversation’s been completely dropped, neither of them sure what to say to the other. Or, at least, Jiwon has no idea what to say to Jaeduck. The words are stuck to the roof of his mouth, caught by the fear of the unknown, the fear of things turning out like they have for the last six years.

Finally, Jiwon clears his throat, and says hoarsely, “We should turn in for the night.”

“Yeah,” Jaeduck murmurs. “It’s getting late.”

Jiwon covers their tab, and waits for Jaeduck to call for a ride before he heads off. “Night, Jaeduck,” he says, hanging back for a moment. “We… should talk about this some other time.”

Jaeduck just nods, hands in the pockets of his coat. “Goodnight, Jiwon-hyung.”

They part there in the cold of the night.

Jiwon drives home in a daze, making his way back on autopilot. Streetlights, buildings, strangers walking their own paths—he passes them all without a care. There’s nothing else occupying his mind beside the way Jaeduck’s throat had looked as he’d drank from his glass, the way Jaeduck’s fingers had traced shapes into the table, the way Jaeduck had whispered, _I think I’m into you too._

The attraction simmers under his skin. It makes him feel nervous about seeing Jaeduck again. The nervousness, the attraction, the warmth in his chest that keeps making him remember her.

But Jaeduck’s not her. Jaeduck’s the furthest thing from the person she’d been.

They’ll see each other soon, he thinks. They’ll sort it out then.

That night, as he goes to sleep, the words replay behind his eyes. _Yes, I’m into you. I think I’m into you too._

_I’m into you. I’m into you too._

_Jiwon-hyung. I’m into you._

 

 

They meet at the YG office to discuss their upcoming schedules for the year. To make plans, to see if anything’s viable.

Jiwon spends almost the entire time looking across the table to where Jaeduck is.

He can’t take his eyes away, not after knowing that Jaeduck feels the same way about him. And he can tell that Jaeduck’s been glancing over at him too, in between paying attention to the discussion that’s going on.

Their eyes meet, just once, and Jiwon knows he can’t go back without getting Jaeduck alone for a moment. Just to talk to him before either of them chicken out.

As the meeting comes to an end, the others make to move out of the room, but Jiwon grabs Jaeduck by the sleeve, garnering his attention immediately. “I’ll give you a ride home,” Jiwon says, intentions obvious.

Jaeduck just nods.

In the car, they’re both silent as Jiwon takes the usual route back to Jaeduck’s from the building. It’s not far, less than ten minutes. He should say something now, before he regrets it, before it’s too late—

“Jaeduck,” he says, just before he turns into Jaeduck’s neighbourhood, just as Jaeduck says hurriedly, “I was wondering—”

They both fall quiet again, and then, Jiwon laughs.

Jaeduck lets out a little giggle too. “You first.”

“No, you,” Jiwon says. “I’m driving.”

Jaeduck takes a deep breath. “Okay. Yeah.” He’s worrying at his lip with his teeth again. Jiwon knows he only does that when he’s nervous. “We were supposed to talk about it. What happened, the other night.”

“We were.” Jiwon keeps his eyes on the road, keeping his hands steady on the wheel. “I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Me neither.”

Jaeduck’s apartment is right there. Jiwon pulls up into the drop-off point, before stopping the car.

There have been far too many silences between them tonight. Jiwon doesn’t like it. “Jaeduck,” he says, “if you just want to forget it happened, we can.”

“I don’t,” Jaeduck says immediately. He undoes his seatbelt, and shifts a little closer, reaching to take Jiwon’s hand. Jiwon looks at their fingers, tucked together like they belong there. “I don’t,” Jaeduck repeats quietly. “I want... I want something. With you.”

Jiwon doesn’t know how to respond, instantly flooded by the memories of his failed relationships in the past. This—there’s so much more to risk. There’s so much he doesn’t know, that he can’t predict.

“I’m not going to say anything else.” Jaeduck’s eyes are lowered. “I just wanted you to know.” His cheeks are tinged pink, his breath quick. “Do you... want to try this? With me?”

He wonders what he has to lose.

Everything. Nothing. His career, his reputation. His friendship with Jaeduck. The friends around him. Jaeduck.

_Jaeduck._

“Okay,” Jiwon says, throat feeling a bit dry. “Okay, let’s give it a shot.”

Jaeduck looks stunned, like he hadn’t expected Jiwon to say yes. “Okay? Okay,” he says, face breaking into a smile. Reassuring, soft. It makes Jiwon feel a little less nervous when Jaeduck squeezes his hand and adds, “We’ll do this together.”

“Yeah,” Jiwon says. He’s so afraid of fucking this up.

Please don’t fuck it up, he tells himself. Please.

Just before he gets out of the car, Jaeduck lingers, eyes on Jiwon’s face like he’s pondering something. Then, he leans back in to brush the gentlest kiss against Jiwon’s cheek. “Goodnight,” he whispers, searching Jiwon’s eyes for a moment, before turning to open the door.

“Night.” Jiwon resists the urge to touch his cheek while Jaeduck’s still looking. It’s only when Jaeduck’s inside that Jiwon unfurls his fingers from his steering wheel and exhales, overwhelmed.

Jaeduck’s hand in his. Those soft words, asking if he’ll try. His mouth, warm against his skin.

He can still feel it, the imprint of Jaeduck’s lips. It’s nothing, a kiss on the cheek is absolutely _nothing_ in the grander scheme of things, but for Jiwon—the way it’s making his stomach tumble, and the way it makes him feel even more nervous—

Jiwon thinks of school bells, the ocean waves against a beach, the chatter of a language he only half understands, a girl in a uniform waving from a distance.

Yes, he knows them. Those memories. Those feelings. Like he’s suddenly twenty-five years in the past, and falling for her for the first time all over again.

Except, this time, it’s the sound of cheers and screams, the laughter that accompanies hours of practice, the smell of alcohol and grills, the brightness of a smile that could rival the moon and stars. A familiarity that he’s missed in heaps. A promise he hopes will keep.

It’s not the same. It’s not too different, either.

“Fuck, don’t do anything stupid,” he whispers, putting the car into drive again. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

 

 

It’s not the fanciest place in the world, but it’ll do.

The restaurant Jaeduck had picked out is small and cosy. On the upper floor of a row of shops, it’s barely noticeable with its lack of a sign or lights, but the moment they go in, soft light spills across the room from lights strung along the walls. The booths are more like small rooms, a table set within translucent folding screens.

“How’d you find this place?” Jiwon asks, letting Jaeduck lead them to the back. Nobody looks at them, too preoccupied with their own dinners, their own dates.

“Seungho-hyung.” Jaeduck takes a seat, and pushes the menu over to Jiwon. It’s just good old local food. Jiwon can already taste the jjigae on the back of his tongue. “He knows all these good dinner places with a lot of privacy.”

For going on a date, Jiwon thinks, suddenly feeling nervous.

 _“Treat this the way you would with anyone else,”_ Jaeduck had said over the phone a day ago. _“Dates are normal.”_

They are. Jiwon’s been on more than enough dates in his life to know how they go, what to say, and how the night will usually end. This time, he’s not as confident.

It’s just Jaeduck, he tells himself. Look at him.

Jaeduck, dressed all nice in a black turtleneck and a light brown coat. His hair done up a little. The light casting shadows across his face. He’s pretty.

Jiwon feels his breath catch. “You look good tonight,” he says, and Jaeduck’s cheeks colour in a soft pink. “Really good.”

“Thanks,” Jaeduck murmurs, giving Jiwon a once-over. “You too.”

He’d put a bit of effort into dressing. Wore a new button-up, a nice jacket. His good shoes. The thought of Jaeduck looking at him and finding him attractive too—it makes him feel warm.

The food is good, and the music overhead drowns out the chatter around them, but for a while it’s awkward. Jiwon’s not sure what to say. He’s got so much on his mind and in the back of his throat, but none of the words seem to want to come out.

Jaeduck’s foot nudges his under the table. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

“I’m not!” Jiwon says, gulping down his soup. “I just. Don’t know what to say.”

Jaeduck smiles, something gentle. “How’s Lucy?”

That’s enough to get him going for a while. Anytime anyone asks him about his dog, he’s off. He talks about Lucy for what seems like ages, retelling the tale of how she’d accidentally locked herself in the kitchen the other day. Jaeduck jumps in halfway through to talk about the time his own dog had somehow managed to get stuck behind a cabinet. “And then he looked at me with the saddest face,” Jaeduck giggles, “like this,” and he pouts.

Jiwon laughs, suddenly realising how much more at ease he is. “The poor thing.”

“Feel bad for me,” Jaeduck says, shaking his head. “I was the one who had to clean up after him.”

By the time they’re halfway through dinner, Jaeduck’s whining about something, and Jiwon’s teasing him, and they’re both laughing, and it feels like any other time they’ve hung out with each other. It’s just them, having fun the way they always do. He really had nothing to be worried about.

He just had to let it happen.

Under the table, Jiwon lets his foot move a little closer to Jaeduck’s, until his shoe’s pressed up along the side of Jaeduck’s sneaker.

Jaeduck’s eyes curve into a smile, and he leans forward a little. “This wasn’t too bad, huh?”

“No,” Jiwon says, smiling back, “wasn’t too bad at all.”

Then, Jiwon takes a breath, and tells himself to be bold.

Once there’s a lull in the conversation, he reaches across the table to slide his hand over Jaeduck’s. Sees the way Jaeduck’s lips part, the way his eyes fall to where Jiwon’s hand is.

Jaeduck turns his hand over and lets Jiwon run his thumb along the inside of his wrist, their fingers lightly curled together. Their hands stay like that for a while.

Neither of them say anything after that, but it’s fine. This speaks for itself.

Maybe this might work, he thinks. The two of them.

 

 

He pulls up into Jaeduck’s block, and stops in a spot that’s facing a wall. It’s quiet this time of night, a single security guard rounding the area. Jiwon’s not worried about anyone catching a glimpse of them here, though, not with his tinted windows and the careful way he’d parked.

“Thanks for dinner,” Jiwon says, smiling at Jaeduck.

Jaeduck smiles right back. “I had a lot of fun,” he murmurs, letting his seatbelt slide off his shoulder. “I always have fun with you. Especially now.” Jaeduck licks his lip, and adds, “Especially since we’ve decided to do this.”

Jiwon’s gaze lands on Jaeduck’s mouth. “Yeah,” Jiwon says, and Jaeduck sucks in a breath, biting at his lip.

He knows that Jaeduck knows he’s looking.

“Jiwon,” Jaeduck says, voice quiet. Not _Jiwon-hyung._ Just Jiwon, and it makes him feel a little weird, but not in a bad way. They’ve gone past a boundary he didn’t ever think they would. It’s new. It’s new and good.

He unbuckles himself from his seat, and shifts over a little, resting against the divider between them. Jaeduck meets his eyes, and Jiwon’s pulse roars in his ears as he reaches to touch Jaeduck tenderly. The pale skin of Jaeduck’s cheek is a strong contrast against the back of Jiwon’s tanned hand. Opposites, the two of them, in so many ways—yet, this is where they are.

Jiwon’s hand is steady on the side of Jaeduck’s face as he leans in. His eyes fall shut. He’s not afraid, but it’s the first time he’s ever touched another man this way in his life. Jaeduck shivers and tilts his head, his mouth parting slightly to catch Jiwon’s bottom lip when Jiwon kisses him gently.

It’s not different from kissing a woman, but it’s not the same, either. Jaeduck’s mouth is just as warm, just as soft. There’s no long hair for Jiwon to curl his fingers into, and no svelte figure beside him, but even just being aware that it’s _Jaeduck_ he’s kissing makes Jiwon feel something else. Jiwon strokes Jaeduck’s cheek, and feels the broken pieces in his chest knit themselves back together, warm and true.

Jaeduck kisses back, fingers curling into Jiwon’s coat. It feels good. Jiwon can feel Jaeduck’s breath against his cheek, the plushness of his lips when he presses them back against Jiwon’s. It’s more chaste than Jiwon had expected, but it feels right.

It feels like them.

Jaeduck exhales softly when they part, eyes still closed. “I liked that,” he whispers, sounding as breathless as Jiwon feels.

“Me too,” Jiwon says, only able to describe what he’s feeling as affection. He leans in, kisses Jaeduck once more, wanting to remember the way Jaeduck’s mouth feels under his, wanting to seal it in his memory forever. Kissing Jaeduck like this for the first time after twenty years of knowing him.

Jaeduck moves in for another kiss before Jiwon can pull back, and makes a content sound in the back of his throat. There’s a pleasant tingle in Jiwon’s gut. He wants to hear Jaeduck make that noise again. Wants to feel Jaeduck’s smile against his skin again, and again.

“If we keep this up, neither of us are gonna go home tonight,” Jaeduck mumbles, but he doesn’t move away. He’s still holding onto Jiwon, his mouth brushing against the corner of Jiwon’s mouth as he speaks. One more kiss. Jiwon doesn’t want Jaeduck to get out of the car. “Mm.”

“I don’t want to go home.” Jiwon draws Jaeduck close, and slides his arms around Jaeduck’s shoulders. He suddenly feels overwhelmed and weighed down with some thick, syrupy-sweet emotion that isn’t quite desire, feeling more like fondness instead. It drowns out the fear that’s ever present in the back of his mind. Jaeduck tucks his face against Jiwon’s and hugs him back, running his fingers along the nape of Jiwon’s neck. “Jaeduck.”

“Jiwon.” Jaeduck turns his head a little, and nuzzles against his cheek, before pressing a soft kiss under his ear. “Maybe I could… come over tomorrow? We could have dinner together again.”

“Yeah,” Jiwon says, feeling a surge of excitement at Jaeduck’s suggestion—not for anything else, but just the chance to spend more time with Jaeduck, to kiss him again, to just have Jaeduck in his life. “I’ll order in.”

“Sounds great.” Jaeduck pulls back, and presses one last quick kiss to Jiwon’s mouth before smiling so widely that his eyes curve into pretty half-moons. Jiwon’s heart is doing flips again. He doesn’t want it to stop. “I had fun. Goodnight, Jiwon.”

“Goodnight,” Jiwon replies, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Jaeduck until he’s safely in the lobby of his apartment building. Only then does he drive off into the night, heading back home to take in the entire night.

It’s not till he’s lying in bed that it hits him properly.

He’s kissed Jaeduck. Jaeduck’s kissed him back.

Jiwon rubs at his mouth absently, staring up at the ceiling. He’s already forgetting the way Jaeduck’s mouth had felt. He wants it again. He wants to kiss Jaeduck over and over, and hold him close, and see him smile.

His phone buzzes.

There’s a text from Jaeduck. _so tmrw at 6?_ it reads.

 _yes,_ Jiwon replies. _see u soon._

 _see you~ goodnight,_ comes Jaeduck’s next response. It’s followed by a heart.

Jiwon stares at it for a long time before sending one back.

He gets three hearts in response, and before he knows it, he’s smiling like he’s a teenager again, clutching at his pillow as he stares at the screen of his phone. They’re just emotes, but they’re from Jaeduck.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be acting like this. “You’re forty-one years old,” he whispers to himself. He’s a grown man. He should have a little more self-restraint.

A moment later, he’s sending three hearts back to Jaeduck, who immediately sends him five.

 _enough,_ Jiwon texts, biting back his grin, _go to sleep._ He tacks a heart onto the end of that message for good measure.

 _ok~ night for real,_ Jaeduck sends. _can’t wait to see you._

 _me too,_ Jiwon replies.

That night, Jiwon sleeps soundly, more soundly than he’s slept in ages, and dreams of new beginnings.

New beginnings with an old friend.

 

 

They continue to meet between their busy schedules. There’s recordings for their album, still, amidst sessions for his own that he’s been planning for a long, long time. There are fansigns and plans to attend shows, and his own appearances on multiple varieties that he never turns down. Between all of those, they meet in the privacy of cars, of restaurants with private rooms, in Jiwon’s apartment, away from the prying eyes of anyone other than themselves.

It’s strange, being this close to Jaeduck now that they’re dating. Where they’d previously been content wherever they sat during meetings, now, Jiwon seeks out the seat beside Jaeduck, and claims it for his own before anyone else can just so he can sling his arm around Jaeduck. During recordings, Jaeduck will huddle up beside him on the couch as he goes over his parts, until he’s almost leaning against Jiwon’s shoulder.

He’s also constantly reminded how different it is, being with Jaeduck compared to being with a woman. As much as Jaeduck’s gentler in his mannerisms and his speaking, he’s as much a man as Jiwon is.

Holding Jaeduck, feeling the muscle in his arms when he moves. Watching Jaeduck lean over the sink in the morning, carefully running a razor across his jaw. Seeing the angles of his body when he dresses, slim and tapered and without any curves.

Jiwon’s still getting used to it, but the more time he spends with Jaeduck, the more he finds that he likes it, likes the way Jaeduck looks and feels and sounds.

He just likes Jaeduck.

Despite that, there’s still a part of him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that tells him it won’t last. That it’ll end up like the others. Like her. Eventually he’ll do something, and Jaeduck will get sick of him, and they’ll drift apart. He’ll lose their relationship, their friendship, everything.

It terrifies him that it might happen.

 _Might,_ he thinks. It’s been good so far. There’s been nothing to say it will.

He’ll continue to work through the uncertainty. He’ll just let it take its course.

“Jiwon!” Jaeduck calls, and Jiwon sticks his head out of the fridge. “Did the food get lost or something?”

“Shut up, it’s coming,” Jiwon says, laughing, and he can hear the bright sound of Jaeduck’s own laughter from the living room.

He’d come over earlier in the afternoon. It’s a Saturday, and neither of them had any plans. Jaeduck had suggested they just play games and eat. It had sounded like the best Saturday ever.

Jiwon carries the bowl of chips out to where Jaeduck’s tapping at his phone. “Hey,” Jaeduck says, “what should I change your name to in my phone?”

“Not anything gross,” Jiwon says immediately. “Like ‘sweetie’ or ‘darling’ or anything like that.”

“Aw,” Jaeduck says, grinning. “Where’s the fun in that, sweetie?”

Jiwon gags, and Jaeduck snorts. “It’s always just been Eun Jiwon,” he murmurs, undoing what he’d typed. “Just Jiwon?”

“Do I have to change yours in my phone too?” Jiwon leans over the back of the couch, watching as Jaeduck types his name in, and then adds a heart at the back. “What’s the heart for?”

“Why not?” Jaeduck looks a bit embarrassed. “I like it.”

Jiwon doesn’t want to admit that he likes it too.

(And that later, he changes Jaeduck’s name in his phone to the exact same thing.)

They settle in to play Star Wars on Jiwon’s Xbox. They’re intense about it as they always are, shrieking whenever either of them loses, or cheering and taunting when they win. Neither of them ever back down.

Jiwon likes that it hasn’t changed even after they’ve started going out together.

A couple of hours in, they’re slouched back into the couch cushions, now just lazily playing. Jaeduck’s leaning comfortably against Jiwon, cheek pressed against his shoulder. Jiwon doesn’t feel like moving at all.

“Mm,” Jaeduck mumbles, finally taking out the AT-M6 he’s been trying to get for a solid five minutes, “I could fall asleep like this.”

“I have a bed, y’know,” Jiwon says, catching a trooper in the chest.

“Is that a come-on?” Jaeduck teases, and Jiwon feels his face burn. Jaeduck laughs, and leans up to kiss his cheek. “Cute.”

“Not,” Jiwon mutters, still feeling a bit taken aback.

Jaeduck pauses the game, and sets his controller down. “Yes,” he says, and he sits up to kiss the corner of Jiwon’s mouth. “No take-backs.”

Jiwon lets his controller slip out of his hand, and he tugs Jaeduck in for a proper kiss. “Guess game time is over,” he whispers, and Jaeduck smiles into it.

Comfortable, easy. They always say that in the beginning, it’s like a honeymoon. After a while, the feelings fade out.

It’s only been a few months since they’ve been together like this, but in reality, it’s been twenty years for them. Twenty years of knowing each other, of learning each other’s habits, of being friends. It’s been an easy transition into what they are now.

As long as they can stay like this, Jiwon thinks, he’ll be content.

 

 

Just before Jaeduck leaves for the night, Jiwon hauls him back in, kisses him a last time, and says, “Thank you.”

There’s a smile on Jaeduck’s face, and something soft in his eyes. It looks a little like what he thinks love’s supposed to look like.

Jiwon isn’t sure, but he thinks he might be feeling what he thinks it is, too.

 

 

He’s had schedule after schedule, filming after filming. There’s the group to worry about, and his own promotions, and keeping up appearances, and his flight out tomorrow for another shoot—he’s exhausted down to the bone.

But it’s not just him. They’re both tired, Jiwon knows. They’re in his car heading back from a schedule, with Jiwon at the wheel. All he wants is to go home and curl up in bed—but Jaeduck’s saying something, seemingly not realising that Jiwon really _does not care right now,_ and he doesn’t even know what Jaeduck’s saying or why he’s still going on when the frustration finally boils over, and Jiwon snaps, “Could you just stop for a minute? Jesus.”

Jaeduck’s words cut off immediately. “You don’t have to yell,” he says, voice sharp, “I thought you were listening. You didn’t say anything before.”

“I wasn’t, okay? I’m tired.” Jiwon doesn’t glance over. “Fuck, I can’t keep up with everything.”

“Okay, god.” Jaeduck mutters. “You’re touchy today. Is something up? Do you need to talk about it?”

“I’m not being touchy—fuck off with that,” Jiwon says, irritated. “Nothing’s up. I don’t always have some kind of problem, Jaeduck.”

“I wasn’t saying—I didn’t say that!” Jaeduck’s tone is climbing. “Can’t I be worried? I’m your—”

“You’re acting more like my mother than my boyfriend, Christ.”

“So, what, I can’t be worried now?”

“I didn’t fucking say that.”

“And I didn’t say you had a problem, but you’re the one implying I did.”

“Okay, just fucking stop.” Jiwon glances over at Jaeduck, who looks indignant. “You keep treating me like I’m a child and I already told you, I don’t like to talk about stuff to anyone, so stop fucking asking.”

“You’re acting just like a child right now. Grow up, Jiwon.”

The swell of frustration bubbles into anger, and before he can reel it back in, Jiwon snaps, “Maybe if you’d just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re better than me, then I’d grow up.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

“Stop the car.” Jaeduck’s expression is unreadable. “Just pull over, now.”

“I’m not stopping the car.”

“I said, stop the fucking car _now.”_

Jaeduck rarely swears. It’s enough of a shock that Jiwon does as he says, pulling over onto the side, near a row of apartment blocks. It’s not far from where he’s supposed to drop Jaeduck home.

The car stills, and Jaeduck reaches for the door. “Wait,” Jiwon says, “where are you going—”

“You said to leave you alone,” Jaeduck says, voice tight, “so I’m doing what you want.” He doesn’t say anything else as he opens the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Jaeduck, wait.” He’s really getting out of the car. Jiwon’s heart sinks, all the anger rushing out of him. “Wait, don’t go—I didn’t mean it—”

“I’ll walk home.”

The door’s slammed shut. Jiwon feels it like a slap to the face.

Jiwon slumps back into his seat, watching Jaeduck leave, hands in the pockets of his jacket as he goes down the sidewalk.

Fuck.

They’ve bickered before, but Jaeduck’s never just walked off. He’s never been that angry at Jiwon, not ever. All because of Jiwon, and what he’d said.

Fuck, he thinks miserably, he’s fucked it up already. He knew he would, _fuck—_

Jiwon resists the urge to slam his fist against the wheel, and looks back up. He doesn’t see Jaeduck anywhere. He doesn’t even know where Jaeduck is, now. He’s probably walked far enough that he’s almost home.

“Fuck,” Jiwon whispers, rubbing at his face with both hands, letting out a hard breath.

He feels like shit already.

_Told you not to fuck it up. It’s just like all the other times. I told you._

 

 

He stands at the kitchen counter. Stares at his phone, then paces.

The last fight he’d had with someone he’d been dating, it’d been bad. She’d stormed out too, but he hadn’t gone after her. Just like now. He hadn’t gone after Jaeduck, he’d just let him walk home in the cold.

Jiwon hates that he’d let that happen.

He should’ve gone after Jaeduck. But he’d just froze in his seat, the memory of the past firmly holding him back, the fear of losing Jaeduck too strong.

_But you’ll lose him anyway if you don’t do something._

He picks up the phone, and taps on his name.

“Jaeduck?” Jiwon takes a deep breath. “Can we talk? I want to apologise.”

 

 

Jiwon arrives early at the cafe they’re supposed to meet at. It’s a bit out of his way, closer to Jaeduck’s, but it doesn’t matter, as long as Jaeduck will come.

He orders a drink and waits. His head feels stuffy, aching with the thought of ‘what if’ and ‘he might’ and ‘will he’ and he can’t stop thinking about what will happen if Jaeduck says _we're through._

The bell over the door tinkles. Jiwon can’t see who it is from where he’s sitting—he’d picked a more secluded table to sit at, somewhere in the back—but he sees Jaeduck walk up to the counter, hidden behind his mask and hoodie. He doesn’t order anything. He just peers around the cafe, looking for Jiwon.

Then, he spots Jiwon, and makes for his table. “Hi,” he says quietly, tugging his mask down as he sits across from Jiwon.

“Hi,” Jiwon says. A pang of hurt rises in his chest. Jaeduck’s eyes are red. “You walked?”

“Yeah,” Jaeduck says. He sounds a bit hoarse. “Weather’s not that great.”

“Yeah.” Jiwon swallows. “Thanks for coming.”

Jaeduck’s silent for a while. “My mom used to say that you shouldn’t go to bed after you’ve argued with someone,” he finally says, “because the anger just keeps.”

It keeps, and it builds, and it never goes away. Jiwon’s gone to sleep angry many times in his life, thinking that in the morning it’ll just be better. It never is. It just makes him feel worse.

“Jaeduck,” Jiwon says, feeling ashamed. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Jaeduck whispers. He rubs at his cheek. “I shouldn’t have kept pushing.”

“No, I—I shouldn’t have ever said what I did.” Jiwon takes a deep breath, and reaches for Jaeduck’s hand under the table, taking it between his. “I’m still working on my temper. And I was tired, but I know that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jaeduck is still looking down, away from Jiwon. “I’m sorry for walking out on you. I shouldn’t have. Especially not that late.”

Jiwon rubs Jaeduck’s hand, soothing. “It’s okay.”

“Couples fight.” Jaeduck nods. “It happens. We’re gonna end up fighting again. Just… let’s talk it out before we do anything stupid.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Jiwon bites his lip, and pushes his drink over to Jaeduck. “Here, have some. You must’ve been cold just now, walking.”

Jaeduck picks it up. “Oh, it’s hot cocoa.”

“Your favourite,” Jiwon says, and he’s rewarded with a small smile. It makes the hurt a little less tangible.

Jaeduck sips. “Thanks,” he says softly.

They sit there for a while, just like that. Holding hands under the table. Jiwon feels his pulse slowly return to normal, a little less tense now that they’ve talked it out. It hadn’t taken much, they’d just needed to apologise, but he’d been terrified it’d go like the last time.

It hasn’t. He’s relieved.

Jaeduck sets the cup down. “It’s late,” he says. It’s starting to get colder too, the bad weather continuing to pick up a little.

“Do you want to come back to mine instead?” Jiwon asks, a bit hesitant. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to be alone tonight. The argument and the apology still feel too fresh, too raw, both of them. He wants Jaeduck close—the fear that he’ll lose Jaeduck suddenly overwhelming.

Jaeduck lets out a soft breath. He’s going to say no, Jiwon thinks for a moment, prepared for the rejection, but Jaeduck rubs his thumb over Jiwon’s hand and says, “Of course I do.”

Jiwon’s relief is palpable.

They go back to his. Jaeduck hangs his coat on the hook, sets his shoes by Jiwon’s, and plays with Lucy until she gets bored. Jiwon makes them both tea, and they sit together until they’re less tense, until it feels less like an effort to go to bed.

Slowly, Jiwon unwinds, letting his arm stretch out along the back of Jaeduck’s shoulders, and after a short while, Jaeduck’s cuddled up against him like he always is, cheek against his chest, his fingers playing with the hem of Jiwon’s shirt. Neither of them say anything.

“I’m sorry,” Jiwon eventually whispers again, this time against Jaeduck’s hair, the word still feeling heavy in his mouth. “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“It’s okay.” Jaeduck curls closer. “I’m not upset anymore.”

“Okay,” Jiwon says. “Okay.”

They end up falling asleep like that, Jiwon with Jaeduck tucked securely into his arms. Safe and sound. Right there with him.

The next morning, they wake up exactly the same way.

 

 

A few days later, he’s at lunch with his sister, who’d called out of the blue just to see how he’d been doing. She’s always had the best (the worst?) timing. Jiwon still appreciates her coming down to find him between jetting around for work.

“Hope you’ve been good,” she says, chewing on a piece of toast. “Anything new?”

“I’m seeing someone,” he tells her, before he can stop himself.

(It’s been hard to hold back anyway. He wants to tell the entire world about Jaeduck, as much as he can’t.)

She looks surprised. “Someone… like, you’ve just started seeing them?”

“For a while, actually. A few months.”

“Oh.” His sister gives him a weird look. “Is it serious?”

Jiwon swallows. “I… it is. I think.” He taps his fingers along his mug. “We had a fight, the other night. I thought it was over. But we made up.”

“That’s good, Jiwon.” She makes a curious noise. “Why’d you think it was that bad?”

He thinks back to an empty house, and an empty bed.

“The last time I’d fought with someone I’d been dating, we’d broken up.”

His sister just considers him for a long moment. “Why?”

Why hadn’t it turned out the way it had, with the last one, or with the ones before?

Instead of letting things fester, or slide into a pretense that nothing was wrong, they’d talked. They’d apologised. He’d made the first move to set his ego aside, to say that he’d been wrong.

“It’s because I didn’t want to change,” Jiwon says, realising it as he says the words. “Now, I do.”

 

 

It’s strange, really. For Jiwon, he hasn’t had anything like this in a while.

He hasn’t had anyone to text regularly, to make plans with. To go on dates that are more than just the first meeting. To take care of another person. To have that person take care of him.

By the time he realises it, days and weeks and months have passed, and they’re still together, more than half a year in. He never expected this.

He’s glad.

In his mind, their trips to film their photobooks earlier in the year are still bright in his memory, vivid for the time they’d spent there together, not just on their own but with Suwon, too. They’d played at being tourists and relaxed, despite having to work. He still remembers the day they’d spent at the theme park, the photos they’d taken of each other. The way Jaeduck had looked with his beanie on, his playful smile as he skated across a little ice rink, the way he’d leaned against Jiwon’s shoulder for the picture they’d taken on the rollercoaster, high up in the sky against the backdrop of Tokyo.

And then, Paris.

The moment they’d walked out into the streets with its unfamiliar architecture and unknown faces, he'd been amazed. The lights and the history and the colours, all draped under the golden hue of the sun. Jaeduck had looked just as pretty under the light, his face turned up to the sky like the happiest sunflower. Jiwon had wanted to take so many photos of him.

Jiwon had managed to wrangle a room all to himself for the trip, and when the staff had all gone to sleep, he’d quietly snuck Jaeduck in. They’d lounged around in Jiwon’s bed the entire night, talking quietly and sharing a bottle of wine until Jaeduck had set both glasses on the floor and pressed Jiwon into the bed to kiss him, over and over again.

He remembers Jaeduck’s smile illuminated by the soft lights, the way they’d stood by the balcony after to look out towards the city, and the thought that here, in a city thousands of miles away from their own, no one recognised them. No one had even so much as looked at them when they’d gone around in their ridiculous outfits.

The cool breeze against their skin. Jaeduck’s warm hand in his.

Maybe one day—one day, just some day in the future, he’ll get to hold Jaeduck’s hand like that again, but not for any show. Not for a shoot, or a photobook. Just as the two of them. Not anyone else.

Just Eun Jiwon and Kim Jaeduck.

“Hey,” Jiwon murmurs one night, tucked up against Jaeduck in his bed. These days, Jaeduck almost spends more time here than he does at his own house. Jiwon likes it. He likes that Jaeduck’s carved out a space for himself in Jiwon’s home, in Jiwon’s life. “Let’s go back to Paris again.”

Jaeduck lets out a little yawn, and burrows into Jiwon’s side, seeking out his warmth like a puppy. He’s so comfortable like this. “When?”

“Whenever.” Jiwon kisses his hair. Jaeduck’s used his shampoo again, he can tell. “As long as it’s with you.”

“I’d like that,” Jaeduck whispers, letting his eyes fall shut. “Mm. Let’s go.”

“We will. I promise.”

 

 

The first time they actually have sex—beyond jerking each other off, or blowjobs—it’s different. Jiwon doesn’t really know what to expect. He’s seen a bit of porn, but it’s never been enough to make him imagine that that could possibly be him with someone else. He knows what it feels like now to have Jaeduck’s hand around him, to have Jaeduck shudder in his grasp, to feel the wet slide of Jaeduck’s mouth—but beyond that, he’s only ever imagined it.

It’d been weeks into the relationship till they’d even broached the idea, because Jiwon hadn’t wanted to rush into it, and they’d had the entire barrier of having known each other only as friends for the past half a lifetime to get over, first.

“We don’t have to, not right away,” Jaeduck had said, chewing on his lip a bit nervously.

They don’t. Jiwon isn’t in this just for the sex, though the idea lingers each time he looks at Jaeduck with more intent-filled eyes. Thinking about seeing Jaeduck, all of him. Thinking about touching his bare skin, about getting closer than they’ve ever been before. It’s nerve-wracking and thrilling all at the same time.

And, one evening after dinner and a movie, Jaeduck slides into Jiwon’s lap, kisses him hard, and grinds their hips together until they’re both breathless and left wanting more. “Jiwon,” Jaeduck murmurs, eyes dark.

Jiwon wants Jaeduck. Jaeduck wants Jiwon too, he can feel it.

They take their time. Jiwon’s gentle when he touches Jaeduck, wanting it to be good for him. They kiss for a long time, they touch, and then, Jaeduck shivers in his hold when Jiwon finally enters him.

It feels amazing. Jiwon’s overwhelmed, not just from how good it is, but from the knowledge that it’s Jaeduck, that he’s doing this with him, that it’s Jaeduck that he’s making love to—and Jiwon really does think that it’s making love, not just sex.

Jiwon, tucking his face against Jaeduck’s, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck as he moves against him, slow and steady. Jaeduck letting out a breathy moan, breaking into a soft laugh as he curls his fingers into Jiwon’s hair, whispering how good Jiwon feels. Jaeduck’s heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him close, wanting him closer. Their pulses syncing as Jiwon clasps Jaeduck’s hand in his, pressing him back into the sheets. Jiwon, feeling so much joy, giving all of himself to Jaeduck, and Jaeduck to him.

There’s nothing else he needs to say.

Later that night they lie in bed, his cheek resting on Jaeduck’s chest as Jaeduck plays with his hair. He can hear the steady beat of Jaeduck’s heart beneath his ear, can smell the milky scent of soap they’d washed up with, can feel how soft his skin is when he palms over Jaeduck’s stomach.

It’s comfortable, even in their nakedness. Though he feels vulnerable just lying here, exposed and bare, his trust in Jaeduck is far stronger. He doesn’t feel awkward. He just feels like he could stay like this forever.

Then, Jaeduck whispers, answering a question Jiwon had asked a long time ago, “I’m glad we only did this now. I don’t think it would’ve been the same, otherwise.”

They wouldn’t have had these versions of each other—the Jaeduck who’s matured out of his childishness, yet retaining the same playful nature he’s always had; the Jaeduck who shows his kindness in his own way—and the Jiwon who’s discovered that love’s not just a one-time thing. The Jiwon who’s learnt to communicate, to take things slow, to put in the work where he hadn’t before.

It’s this Jaeduck that he’s fallen for. And, he quite likes being this Jiwon, too.

Maybe this is it. Not just the bright, obsessive feelings of attraction, of lust—but the desire to want to be someone better than he was before, to want to see the other person in his life happy.

To want to be with Jaeduck, just like this.

Simple and easy and content.

 

 

“You ready to go?”

Jaeduck calls back, “Give me a moment, need to grab my gloves.”

It’s cold out now that winter’s arrived on their doorsteps. Jaeduck had been the one to suggest going out to Han River for a walk, managing to coax Jiwon into the idea despite the weather being less than ideal. “There’ll be fireworks!” Jaeduck had exclaimed, all happy and excited. “And we can get corndogs and hot chocolate.”

Jiwon can never say no. How could he?

Eventually, Jaeduck trundles back in, bundled up so heavily that he looks like a kid who’s been forced into multiple layers by his mother. “I’m good,” Jaeduck says, and Jiwon laughs. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You look cute.” Jiwon kisses his nose, and snaps the elastic of his face-mask. “As always.”

“Jiwon!” Jaeduck whines as he rubs at his chin. He’s blushing. The one good thing about the cold—Jaeduck’s cheeks always end up pinker than usual whenever he’s embarrassed or shy. The tips of his fingers, too.

“Sorry,” Jiwon says, not sorry in the slightest, and Jaeduck just rolls his eyes, grabbing his car keys. “I’ll buy you an extra drink to make up for it.”

“You’d better,” Jaeduck calls over his shoulder, grinning.

The sun’s just setting as they get there. There are a lot of people, but Jiwon’s not worried about getting recognised. Everyone’s focused on their own thing. The moment evening dips into night, it’ll be even harder to see who they are. Everyone here is bundled up too, anyway.

They’re just another couple out for a stroll by the river.

Jaeduck buys them food and Jiwon gets the drinks. They sit on a ledge watching a couple of boats sail pass as they share their food, delighting in the warmth. Jaeduck’s hand rests against Jiwon’s casually.

“Mm,” Jiwon mumbles, mouth full of corndog, “Okay, I guess this was a nice idea after all.”

Jaeduck smiles smugly, and Jiwon wishes he could kiss him.

He does, a quick peck on the cheek that he hopes no one sees, and he tugs his hoodie higher over his head right after. Jaeduck does the same, but his smile has turned more fond. “Thanks,” he says softly, and his fingers curl over Jiwon’s.

The moon looks even brighter in the sky once night has come, stars dotted around it. The lights around the walkways and bridges are all lit up, and it looks stunning.

Jiwon turns to Jaeduck, who’s absorbed in the sights. He’s probably seen it hundreds of times over, but there’s still a look of wonder glimmering in his eyes. It’s all beautiful. He’s beautiful too.

“Hey,” Jiwon says, nudging Jaeduck gently, making Jaeduck look at him. “Move in with me.”

Jaeduck looks a bit surprised. “What?”

“Move in with me,” Jiwon repeats. “You come over so often anyway. And, I know you still have the dogs to look after, but... it’s not too far. I can drive you whenever you want, when I’m here. And... I just want to be with you.”

Jaeduck’s lips part, his breath a little wispy in the cold air. “You want me to stay with you?”

“Yeah,” Jiwon says. “I really, really do.”

Jaeduck’s smile is blinding. “Yes,” he says, and he leans over to pull Jiwon into a hug, warm and secure. Jiwon rests his cheek against Jaeduck’s shoulder, feeling intensely glad that Jaeduck’s said yes, and when they pull back, there’s a loud sound in the background. The fireworks have begun.

As the darkness of night covers them, and the thousands of bright sparks in the sky pry away any stray gazes with their colourful splendour, Jiwon pulls lightly at Jaeduck’s sleeve. Jaeduck blinks at him. “Mm?”

Jiwon rests his forehead against Jaeduck’s. He can feel Jaeduck’s lashes brushing against his. The warmth of Jaeduck’s breath against his cheek. He feels so _full._ “I love you,” Jiwon whispers, “I love you so, so much.”

He does. He really does.

After months, after all this time, he finally knows what that word means to him.

Jaeduck thumbs over Jiwon’s pulse, and curls their fingers together. “I love you too,” he says simply, “Just as much as you love me.”

The fireworks continue to go off overhead, almost as loud as the beat of his heart in his chest.

Jiwon will never need to second-guess this ever again. It’s just this. It’s just them.

 

 

(An abstract painting of a valley. It’s changed. The deep, thick strokes of grass-green, sea-blue, clay-brown. Blots of white no longer ballooning overhead, no longer obstructing the summit of an ethereal mountain, towering across the fields. The brush-strokes continue upward, lighter and lighter, disappearing not into grey, but flowing into the same solid colours, certain and true.

But, he still hasn’t answered—

How high does the mountain go?

 

 

Just as high as he can reach for the top shelf in his closet, where he’s kept the small black box with its matching silver bands inside.

Just in case.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_franz wright, to her (1982)_

It was still dark out still snowing  
You were still here still asleep

When the leaves came out  
Their shadows came out too

I can’t remember the summer  
I can’t remember your voice

But it is still dark out still snowing  
You are still here

 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/KAMSANGl)


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